


Free Reign

by Snowy38



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, Larry Stylinson - Fandom, Louis Tomlinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Harry in a Crop Top, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, Louis in Glasses, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-02 14:53:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5252381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowy38/pseuds/Snowy38
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hey this is Louis by the way," Niall was saying pointing casually across the table." Louis this is H that I was telling you about...He's on the basketball team as you can see..."</p><p>"Lanky enough," Louis muttered as "H" turned brows lifted.</p><p>His hair was captured in a white sweatband worn around his forehead, pushing up at the crown messily. Louis couldn't help the way his eyes drifted down the length of those curly tendrils.</p><p>He could admit the guy was attractive. It was just a shame he was a dickhead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Free Reign

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for this I don't even know what this is XD 
> 
> Ang

 Free Reign

 

His hair was in a plait. Sort of. At least half of it was... the top half.

 

The rest kind of spilled out in ragged curls; the ends of which spiralled tightly.

 

It wasn't so much the hair though...although it did dangle to the top of his pecs and down to his shoulder blades.

 

It was more the fact this guy- this tall and quite gorgeous guy was wearing the tightest blackest jeans Louis had ever seen and with those jeans he was wearing gold doc martens and a cut-off football jersey. 

 

Cut off around his midriff that is.

 

Leaving his middle exposed. His muscular yet soft middle. A middle with a vague six pack, sharp v-lines, sexy ribs and-

 

Muffin top.

 

The guy had small pudges of fat that sat right above his jeans band which was secured with a matching gold belt.

 

And he seemed to have felt Louis staring because although he had one arm arced into the wall above a small blonde guy he was talking to, sideways to where Louis was stood, he still flicked a disinterested look over. Maybe not disinterested as much as disgusted.

 

Louis shoved his glasses frames up his nose and cleared his throat dropping his gaze to the ground. The thing was he had to get to class and to get to his class he needed the gorgeous guy to move.

 

"Um...excuse me," he tried quietly.

 

The crop-topped gay icon smirked dirtily, shifting back an inch from the doorway so that Louis had to slide by him thereby making physical contact.

 

And Jesus. If he didn't wear women's perfume too. Louis smiled to himself as he settled in a seat for his next lecture. He carefully swung his rucksack down and unpacked his things neatly placing them on the desk methodically.

 

He felt someone watching and looked up to find the gorgeous guy eyeing him amusedly. He arched a brow and pursed his lips causing the guy to laugh throatily and turn away.

 

Louis sighed. Great. His second day of college and he already had a giant dickhead to deal with. And one who thought he was Rue Paul's understudy.

 

//

 

The blonde guy who had been stood with the dickhead slid into a seat behind Louis and tapped his shoulder.

 

"Hi...I'm Niall..."

 

Louis twisted to look at him to make sure he wasn't being pranked. Niall had a decently innocent smile on his face.

 

"Louis," he replied.

 

"Good to meet ya," Niall assured in an Irish accent.

 

Louis turned back to the front as the lecturer walked in. 

 

//

 

It turned out Niall was somewhat of a symbiot. Louis found he couldn't really shake him after that. 

 

For some reason the blonde Irish lad stuck to his side -or magically appeared there during breaks- and talked non stop about everything. Louis wasn't sure how to get him to shut up yet he hadn't quite mastered that art after three days.

 

And Louis lived in some kind of silent fear that one day the tall guy he'd seen Niall talking to would appear to claim the Irish boy as his and maybe even go as far to obnoxiously make out with him right in front of Louis' eyes.

 

Because he assumed the two were dating from the amount Niall talked about him- his name was H apparently. At least that's how Niall constantly referred to him.

 

How typical for a guy who wore such outlandish clothes to have some kind of ridiculous nickname. Hadn't he heard of Steps? The name "H" was already taken.

 

It was one lunchtime, when Louis was curled over his study book and Niall was slurping his Coke noisily opposite him, that the gorgeous dickhead appeared. It had to happen sooner or later and three days since their last meeting was fairly reasonable.

 

"Nialler," the guy greeted with a grin perching his hip into the side of the picnic table they shared, blocking Louis with his back.

 

Louis arched a brow. 

 

His sweetly curved bum was wrapped in red short shorts highlighting his pale cream thighs. White knee high socks preceded black basketball boots and a silky  white basketball vest clung to his wide back. Of course he'd rolled the hem up and tied a knot at his ribs to bare his middle.

 

Of course.

 

If that wasn't bad enough he wiggled his hips making sure Louis' attention was- if not already- drawn to his pert backside.

 

He rolled his eyes going back to his book. Not only was he a dickhead but he was decidedly rude.

 

"Hey this is Louis by the way," Niall was saying pointing casually across the table." Louis this is H that I was telling you about...He's on the basketball team as you can see..."

 

"Lanky enough," Louis muttered as "H" turned brows lifted.

 

His hair was captured in a white sweatband worn around his forehead, pushing up at the crown messily. Louis couldn't help the way his eyes drifted down the length of those curly tendrils.

 

He could admit the guy was attractive. It was just a shame he was a dickhead.

 

"Louis, hm?" H said as he turned slightly. "Think I'll call you Lou. You look like a Lou. Kind of small and cute like a teddy bear..."

 

Louis opened his mouth in stunned shock.

 

"What's the matter Lou-bear?" H asked with a smirk folding his arms. "Not used to being told you're cute?"

 

Louis wasn't enraged exactly. More like mortification crossed horror burned in his chest. He felt his cheeks rush with that heat and he watched as H Laughed bending to clutch his stomach.

 

"S'alright Louis," Niall assured around a mouth full of sandwich. "H's real name is Harry and we all call him Hazza when we go out..."

 

Harry slid Niall a murderous look.

 

"Judas," he accused softly, twirling on the spot.

 

"I have o get back to practice!" He announced, performing ballet across the lawn in front of his amused college-peers, something Louis watched with bemusement.

 

"Is he always like that?" He asked Niall.

 

"Worse," The Irish guy confirmed. "Much worse..."

 

//

 

Louis decided to try out for the soccer team.

 

Of course he got in- despite his height (or lack thereof) and he quickly earned his place as left defender.

 

Harry, despite having his own games schedule, seemed to find time to come to the matches, too, cheering on a dark-haired striker called Zayn who Louis was tempted to take out if he wasn't on his own team.

 

Harry's pom-poms and cropped-jersey were a distraction and Louis found himself begrudging Zayn the attention.

 

"Hey," Zayn ruffled Louis' clean, wet hair as he sat on the locker room bench in his towel.

 

"Hey...good game," Louis said with a nod. He'd slipped his contact lenses in for the game, his glasses tucked safely in his bag.

 

"You coming out after?" Zayn offered.

 

Louis pressed his lips together, thinking about his room-mate, a quiet guy with a brown quiff and soulful brown eyes, not unlike the boy before him. But at least Zayn seemed to _like_ Louis. Liam hadn't quite warmed up to his sarcasm yet.

 

"Uh...should I?" Louis asked back.

 

Zayn smiled like he had a secret.

 

"Harry's coming..."

 

Louis nodded blankly. "Oh right?"

 

Zayn winked.

 

Louis stared. _What_? What was _that_ exactly?

 

"Is Nialler coming?" he asked instead of trying to work out Zayn's code.

 

Zayn tilted his head with a frown.

 

"Niall?"

 

"Yeah...guy I'm friends with...blonde, Irish?"

 

Zayn rolled his eyes.

 

"Sure," he called over his shoulder as he sauntered by Louis, tossing his used towel on Louis' head. "If that's who you'd rather be hanging out with," the darker man muttered as he headed for his locker.

 

Louis made a bemused face but shook the feeling away, concentrating on getting dressed.

 

//

 

Harry hadn't worried about getting dressed at all.

 

He still wore his cropped soccer jersey with Zayn's number on it and he'd wedged himself between Zayn and Louis in the booth while Louis had Niall to his right. Harry's hair was-

 

Well Louis wasn't sure, actually. He thinks they're called buns, little rounds of hair, two of them, perched at his crown. He tried to look Harry in the face without cracking into a grin of amusement and he can't.

 

"What?" Harry wondered after Louis' third giggle.

 

"What's all this?" Louis circled his finger in the air by his own scalp.

 

"Space buns," Harry replied seriously, his arm around Zayn's shoulder, pulling Zayn in. Zayn smiled at Louis though.

 

"Space buns," Louis repeated with a snort. "Is that an actual thing?"

 

"Yep," Harry nodded.

 

Louis nodded, lips pursed.

 

"Okay, if that's what you like..."

 

"I like guys," Harry told him boldly, arching a brow. "Small ones with dark hair."

 

Louis' lashes lowered over his blue-grey eyes, his contacts beginning to scratch with wearing them so long.

 

"I can see that," he remarked, throwing an arm around Niall's shoulder. "Prefer blondes myself," he teased, laying a smacker on Niall's cheek who quickly and loudly wiped off Louis' saliva.

 

"Urgh, Louis!" He roared then used both hands to rub his jumper sleeves over his cheek.

 

"I don't have hepatitis," Louis remarked, offended.

 

Harry's space buns kept scuffing Louis' hair every time he turned his head-which was often- and Louis ended up giving up on his once-carefully messy hair and decided he wasn't going to win this one.

 

//

 

The thing about Harry's crops was that he had the most mesmerising belly button.

 

Really, Louis wondered if Harry had hidden some kind of mind-wielding power in the cove of his belly, rendering everyone stupid because people were literally tripping over at his feet in staring so hard.

 

Harry had on an over-size burgundy jumper which skimmed his navel and when he lifted an arm to fiddle with his hair, it grazed his lean ribs. Of course, there was also the small matter of two incredible fern tattoos branching across his hips, strangely sexy despite their slightly feminine look.

 

And Harry had a butterfly centre-stage on his belly and a trail of fine, dark hair arrowing down to his jeans that would make the most miserable person happy.

 

"Lou-Bear!" His deep voice boomed, jerking Louis out of his hidden appraisal.

 

 _Or not-so-hidden, apparently_.

 

"Hazza," Louis smiled triumphantly at sneaking that little gem out.

 

He thought he saw Harry pause in a moment of uncertainty but it winged away and Louis chalked it down to his dire need for Harry to have a chink in his armour, something that weakened his so far flawless act.

 

"What are you doing after lectures today?" Niall asked, who was stood beside the obnoxious long-haired one. Who had his hair in a bun today, a cute, curly little bun.

 

Louis shrugged.

 

"Trying to persuade Liam not to hate me..."

 

"I've got a game," Harry lifted a brow.

 

Louis smirked.

 

"Need more supporters?"

 

Harry smiled wanly.

 

"We need a lift," he amended.

 

Louis' smile faded, he blinked lashes over eyes that became cool.

 

"Right. Sure, okay," he nodded, sliding his glasses up his nose.

 

Harry rolled his eyes.

 

"That was a joke," he added afterwards with a pointed look.

 

Louis pursed his lips.

 

"Ha-ha?" He tried.

 

Niall cupped his arm.

 

"I'll drive us, Lou, got me pick up, remember?"

 

Louis nodded. That would make a threesome and that was awkward, wasn't it?

 

"I hope you'll wear my jersey," Harry said and Louis flicked a look to Niall.

 

"I've got a couple of his old ones we can take."

 

"Ego maniac, much?" Louis accused softly.

 

Harry laughed, threw back his head and let his throat expose itself, his Adams apple protruding.

 

"Absolutely," he winked, biting his lips becomingly to curb a smile that pinged a dimple into his cheek.

 

Louis sighed and rolled his eyes.

 

"Best stick to that drama club you do," He mused. "Don't think my Tuesday chess group would know what to do with you quite frankly..."

 

"But do you?" Harry called as Louis walked away towards his next class. "Do you know what to do with me?"

 

Louis shook his head and kept walking despite an awkward blush hitting his cheeks when he heard a guy yell back;

 

"I can think of a lot of things I'd do to you, Styles!"

 

Louis didn't want to think about why that made his skin itch and his belly lurch uncomfortably.

 

//

 

Harry was an odd mixture of large, adorable Labrador puppy and lean, mean, machine on the basketball court.

 

He wore his sweat band over his pre-arranged bun and his standard uniform.

 

The shorts were incredibly short. Louis' eyes kept drifting to his lovely plump thighs, still muscular and lean but somehow biteable.

 

His own thighs were thicker and curvier than Harry's and he sighed in silent jealousy of Harry's height.

 

"You should come to the games more often," Niall commented.

 

Louis smirked. Although the football and basketball games seemed to conveniently happen at different times, it wasn't a sport- _except for Harry's legs_ \- that he had any particular desire to get into.

 

Still, Niall was his only friend on campus so far thanks to his inability to be normal and it would do him good to get out of his room and away from the rather foreboding Liam.

 

"Yeah," he nodded, leaning back and pushing his hands into his pockets. "Might just take you up on that..."

 

//

 

He was blocking the doorway to his class again- the one he shared with Niall.

 

Every time a student approached to get into the room, he curved himself to create a human tunnel, allowing them inside.

 

When Louis bounced up on plimsolled feet, his hair a bit of a mess, Harry settled into the frame, arms folded.

 

Of course Louis noticed his muscular arms, the definition and bulk. Of course he didn't feel his stomach drop and his groin tingle. Absolutely not.

 

His hair was in that half-top plait again, he had on those black jeans he loved with bright red Docs and belt, a black tee skimming his pecs with 'Fetish' written in bold white letters across the front.

 

Louis paused about a foot away when Harry didn't curve to let him through. He tilted his head. Then cleared his throat. Then sighed.

 

"Hello?" He agitated.

 

Harry turned a slow, smug grin onto him.

 

"Hello, beautiful," he greeted.

 

Louis felt his cheeks burn and rolled his eyes.

 

"I mean-" He pointed at the doorway he was blocking. "I'd like to get inside."

 

Louis watched open-mouthed as another student shouldered by him, allowed entry by Harry who closed the gap when Louis darted forward.

 

"Ha-" He huffed, looking up into his face now that they were practically chest to chest.

 

"You need to pay the toll to pass," Harry told him.

 

Louis pursed his lips.

 

"What's the toll, then? Since you just let every one of my class-mates through for free?"

 

Harry's smile went big and silly.

 

"Maybe I only care about you passing me by," he said.

 

Louis flicked a look to Niall who winked.

 

"Well, what's the fee?" Louis demanded.

 

Harry arched a brow.

 

"Dinner or a kiss."

 

Louis smirked, shunting his glasses up his nose. More students were trying to get into the classroom and Harry shuffled towards him to make room for them to slide behind him.

 

"Really? You're going to hold me to ransom to take you out and kiss you?"

 

Harry shrugged.

 

"Worked for me so far..."

 

Louis flicked his eyes away, lashes falling to his cheeks. He wondered how many other people Harry had asked out this way. Or had kissed. Or had slept with, even. He swallowed hard against an unexpected gritty feeling in his throat.

 

"What's your success rate?" Louis wondered curiously.

 

Harry tucked a surprisingly sweet smile into his lips, one that popped both his dimples and sparkled in his eyes.

 

"I'll let you know once my first experiment has been completed..."

 

Louis spat out an indignant laugh, checking behind him for Niall but finding the blonde boy had gone.

 

"Well?" Harry leaned in, voice low.

 

Louis met his gaze, his heart pounding hard in his chest, his breath a bit stuttery. He had to roll onto the front of his feet, grasping Harry's solid arm to balance himself as he very quickly- and very chastely- planted a kiss on his cheek.

 

He then took advantage of the gap behind Harry to wind around him and slip inside the room.

 

"That's not a kiss, Tomlinson!" Harry called as he twirled, arms framing the doorway as he pushed his body forward into the room. "That doesn't count!"

 

Louis smiled smugly to himself with a hum.

 

"Hm? Oh well, I'm in now, aren't I?"

 

Harry shook his head.

 

"You owe me dinner," he pointed at him with one long finger. "No way you can cheat your way out of that."

 

Someone tapped Harry on the shoulder and he looked behind him to fid the lecturer for Louis' class there, brows high.

 

"I didn't know you'd changed majors, Mr Styles," the lecturer observed.

 

Harry- _if Louis was seeing correctly_ \- actually blushed, dipping his chin and mumbling an apology before vanishing from the doorway and Niall poked him in the back with a ruler.

 

"Hey Tommo, think my mate likes ya," he giggled breathily.

 

Louis shook his head and concentrated on his notes, ignoring the warmth expanding in his belly.

 

//

 

Harry had taken to sideways galloping up and down the home end of the pitch, pom-poms thrust upwards and words of encouragement yelled through his lovely pouty lips.

 

Louis shook his head slightly as he jogged back from assisting a goal, noting Harry was still wearing Zayn's jersey in its cropped state.

 

"About time you got a number 28 printed," Louis panted, out of breath.

 

"Where are your glasses?" Harry asked back with a pout.

 

Louis tilted his head towards the dressing rooms.

 

"Easier to play without them."

 

Harry gently shimmered his pom-poms so that they rustled.

 

"I miss them," he said. "Something about a geeky guy that makes me weak..."

 

Louis closed his eyes as he laughed, opening them to a beaming Harry. He reached up to tug his bun a bit, unravelling it and running away with a cheeky smile.

 

"Let down your hair Rapunzel!" Louis called as he rejoined his team for the next kick-off.

 

//

 

Now the weather was turning colder- _and Harry's wardrobe seemed to be consisting of cropped jumpers more often than not_ \- Louis dug out his hoodies and knitted jumpers from the back of his closet to wear under his denim jacket.

 

Roger from his chess class had commented that he looked 'dapper' of late and Zayn had said he looked handsome in his favourite burgundy one and Kelly from his History class had shown him how to flip his fringe back into a quiff so he'd started doing that, too, cultivating his beard into a tidy scruff.

 

Harry had been achingly absent of late- apparently consumed with a project in his textiles class. Niall had gently guided him into the workrooms where Harry was holed up and Louis poked his head in, catching Harry unawares at first.

 

His favourite long-haired basket-ball player was draping gold shimmering fabric over a mannequin, conversely dressed in grey sweats with bare feet and torso.

 

Louis swallowed as Harry lifted an arm to brush back his hair, untamed and perfectly spectacular in its art of messy curls. Some strands stood up like he'd been electrified.

 

"Thought I was taking you out," Louis said by way of introduction.

 

His eyes naturally fell to Harry's chest as he turned, all its muscular glory wrapped in soft-looking pale skin and dark, pretty tattoos.

 

Harry managed a weak smile, tiredness at the edges of his eyes ad lips.

 

"Figured I'd coerced you into that," he replied.

 

Louis stepped into the room, hands in his pockets.

 

"You look like you could use a break," he observed.

 

Harry let out an amused breath of air, lifting his hands in wild surrender.

 

"I've been at it for days and I'm not even close to finishing and it's due Friday..."

 

Louis shrugged off his jacket, laying it on the work bench and coming closer, still. He stood in front of the mannequin whilst Harry circled it, eyeing it critically.

 

"A couple of hours won't hurt," he suggested, shunting his glasses up and pinning Harry with his blue-eyed gaze.

 

Harry looked at him then, his posture softening a bit. Louis wondered if the glimpses of vulnerability he kept seeing were actually real or a figment of his imagination that liked to secretly believe Harry only showed him parts of himself he didn't want others to see.

 

Tiny parts, but parts all the same. Parts Louis' insides twisted at and lurched to see more of.

 

Harry lifted a hand slowly, combing his hair back with gentle fingers.

 

"You know somewhere?" Harry asked him.

 

Louis smiled slowly, triumphantly.

 

"I do."

 

Harry bit his lower lip with a slow nod.

 

"Guess I better put some clothes on, then."

 

//

 

Harry was a handsy eater, wrapping his big paws around the burger he'd ordered and eating it messily, licking his lips with a tongue that Louis was sure was as long as his legs.

 

"Enjoying that?"

 

Harry finished his messy mouthful before answering.

 

"I expected four-star...not a burger joint," Harry responded, but his eyes were warm with a smile and he looked five years younger than when they'd left the workshop.

 

Louis lifted a brow delicately.

 

"Why doesn't that surprise me..?"

 

Harry smirked, shoving fries into his mouth.

 

"I'm kidding actually. I love this."

 

Louis wondered what was the truth. Harry's version of 'putting clothes on' meant adding socks and burgundy boots, ones that matched the tone of Louis' jumper. He'd slipped on a t-shirt too, one he didn't bother to tie up around his middle.

 

"No tummy-flashing today?" Louis changed subject.

 

Harry flicked him a look under dark lashes that made Louis' toes curl.

 

"Missing my belly button, Lou-Bear?"

 

Louis looked at his plate, poking his half-eaten food with his fork before looking back up, resolutely.

 

"Actually, yes. Yes I am."

 

Harry's face showed his surprise, but he didn't move to remedy the situation. Instead he shrugged a bit.

 

"Feel a bit fat today. My love-handles are out of control..."

 

"They're my favourite part..." Louis murmured under his breath, sipping his soda.

 

And maybe Harry didn't expect Louis to go willingly into this- _whatever this was_ \- but Louis wasn't a man used to denying his feelings when he had an inkling the other person had them back. And he had an inkling Harry might, despite his rather 'free love' persona.

 

When it came to dessert, Harry pushed his lips into a kissy shape.

 

"Share a sundae?" He suggested.

 

"As long as it has mint choc chip ice-cream," Louis bargained.

 

They giggled over spoon-fights for the brownie pieces among the ice-cream.

 

//

 

Louis had purchased a replica basketball jersey with Harry's name and number around a week later.

 

Harry had run up into the stands when he'd noticed him wearing it and Louis had been the rather startled recipient of a hug so big and tight his skin still buzzed with the memory of it.

 

But seeing Harry in a _28 Tomlinson_ jersey- knotted at his belly button of course- was what weakened his resolve fully.

 

Because that meant Harry's project was over and he had time to come to his games again. It meant Harry had time to _go out_.

 

Louis' heart was thumping in his chest as he finished his final hug with his team-mates, heading off the field towards his personal cheerleader. Harry always stood there, waiting for him to go by, hand extended for a high-five.

 

Louis wasn't exactly planning a high-five though. Something was burning in his blood and making him brave. Braver than he had any right to be but-

 

 _Fuck it_.

 

He steered left, skittering to a stop in front of Harry in his studded football boots, pushing up onto his toes before his mind gave out on the surge of adrenaline pushing him to do this and the next thing he knew, he had a hand hooked around the back of Harry's neck to guide him down and his own small, hot lips were pressing into lush cold ones.

 

He could faintly make out some roars from the crowd over the ringing in his ears but mostly the throb of his heart-beat and the taste of Harry was overwhelming his senses. Before Harry could respond- _before he could reject him or even kiss him back, maybe_ \- Louis rocked back onto his heels and ran as fast as he could to the changing rooms, sitting on a bench and pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

 

//

 

"You didn't expect me not to follow you, right?"

 

Louis looked up, then behind him, finding the showers and changing area empty. Dampness lingered on his lashes as he focused back on his cheerleader who was casually leaning in the doorway of the room, arms folded and pom poms tucked under his arm pits.

 

They dropped as he unfolded himself, walking toward him.

 

"Because you can't kiss a guy in front of a hundred people and expect him not to follow you..."

 

Louis cleared his throat.

 

"I-I don't know what I expected," he admitted.

 

Harry smiled, that slow, dangerous smug little grin that made his eyes flash devilishly.

 

"Good. Gives me free reign, then."

 

Louis frowned a bit but Harry was close, so close, sliding a knee onto the bench beside his thigh.

 

"Is it okay if I sit here?" One brow arched as sparkling green eyes met his.

 

Louis nodded, not trusting his voice. Harry anchored himself with a hand curled around Louis' shoulder as he settled his other knee the other side, straddling Louis' lap. His big hands squeezed Louis' shoulders.

 

"You're not showered," he noted, ducking a bit to sniff at the nape of Louis' neck. "You stink."

 

Louis chucked out a breathy chuckle.

 

"I know. I-"

 

Harry nosed around his neck, under his chin, dragging his lips over his scruff.

 

"Shh," Harry hushed him lowly, laying the tiniest kiss to Louis' lower lip.

 

His breath caught, parting his thin lips and Harry tilted his head to kiss him properly then, earning a small weakened groan from Louis' throat. Louis tilted his head up, his hands curling around Harry's thighs automatically to squeeze them lightly and Harry flicked out his tongue at that, licking into Louis' mouth.

 

Louis wanted to hold him, tight against him, his arms slowly circling the bigger man's waist to do just that as they deepened the kiss, lips pressing together with the aching feeling inside. Louis' chest felt tight, like someone was sitting on it rather than his lap but one roll of Harry's hips had his lap interested, too.

 

He turned his head to the side to break the kiss, a little whined protest leaving his lips.

 

Harry's hands had somehow travelled up under his jersey to lay on his chest. No wonder he was getting hard.

 

"What, you're a good girl, Lou-Bear?" Harry teased.

 

Louis swallowed, breath fast and catching.

 

"At least let me shower," he reasoned.

 

Harry considered his request with a thoughtful pout, his lips swollen and soft around the edges.

 

"I think that can be allowed," he said, shuffling backwards with a hand pressed elegantly to the front of his own jeans. "Am I permitted to shower with you?" He wondered as an afterthought.

 

Louis glanced back at him with a roll of his eyes and shake of his head.

 

"No?" Harry smirked, sitting back on the bench. "Guess I'll just wait here then..."

 

//

 

 

Louis was- _perhaps_ _predictably_ \- pinned to the cold, ceramic tile wall of the shower, a big, warm body pressing to his that was unmistakeably naked.

 

It was a lot to be processing- the fact that the gorgeous dickhead liked him enough to feel like kissing him again paired with the fact he'd thrown off his clothes to press Louis into the wall and lick out his mouth.

 

Louis groaned, not sure he liked the way Harry had a hold on his wrists and his weight controlling him. Louis wasn't the guy who let other's tell him what to do, no matter what his quiet persona may lead people to believe.

 

He surged forward, trapping Harry's naked waist in strong arms as he turned them, bumping them slightly as Harry's back now made contact with the tile.

 

Louis waited, breathing heavy and hot over his face, for Harry to say something to express his feelings on this change in dynamic.

 

"Fuck," he gravelled, flingers curling up and out into the back of Louis' hair, his lips pressing hard to Louis' as he let out a feral growl, his free hand falling to squeeze possessively over Louis' ass-cheek.

 

"Think you're the King, huh?" Louis accused, sucking on his lower lip, nipping at the flesh.

 

Harry trembled a bit in his arms, his body weakening and then he watched in awed silence as Harry lifted both his hands and placed the backs of his wrists to the wall.

 

"You wanna show me who's boss?" He smirked.

 

Louis blinked the water out of his eyes, his lashes clogged with moisture, his tan little body reacting to the sight of the gorgeous hunk surrendering to him so easily. Louis could imagine exactly what Harry was like in bed this way, imagined how his showy nature and outright confidence would translate and it intimidated him a bit.

 

A bit _a lot_.

 

The squeak of the changing room door opening had them both stilling, clutched together.

 

 

"Haz? You in here?" Called Niall.

 

Harry rolled his eyes.

 

"How did you guess, Nialler?" He called back, his voice echoing in the shower room.

 

Niall snorted.

 

"Thought I better let you guys know the soccer coach is on his way. Looking for Louis apparently..."

 

Harry hung his arms on Louis' shoulders.

 

"He'll have to fight me for you then, won't he?" He arched a brow.

 

Louis brushed his thumbs against Harry's spine gently, feeling him shiver.

 

"Rain-check?"

 

Harry huffed, running a hand through his sodden hair, now even longer without the curl.

 

"Suppose," he grumbled, leaning up and stealing Louis' towel.

 

"Thanks!" Louis called, hearing a giggle and a few minutes later the towel- half wet- landed on the wall divide between the showers and the changing room.

 

"Laters, baby," Harry called loudly, the door swishing shut.

 

Louis reached for his towel with a frown.

 

_Fifty Shades of Grey?_

 

//

 

He probably should have known.

 

Like, the signs were there and anyway he was Louis _fucking loser_ Tomlinson.

 

Not a guy capable of holding Harry Styles' attention for very long.

 

And maybe it hurt more because less than twelve hours ago Harry had been half-hard and pressing him into a wall while they were both wet. And that meant-

 

Louis swallowed, his eyes darkening as his face crumpled a bit into a covering frown.

 

That meant Harry hadn't liked kissing him. Or wrestling with him in the shower. And that was-

 

 _Fuck_.

 

Louis twisted away from the image that was now burned into the back of his eyes and blamed the lack of sleep from his vivid dreams and his nerves about his chess competition for the tears that gathered in his eyes.

 

He was just tired, he needed more sleep, that was all.

 

//

 

"Hey! Heard you beat those fuckers at Wellington High," Niall slapped Louis on the back, slipping onto the bench seat behind him as Louis picked at his food on a picnic table outside.

 

"Yeah, roasted them," he nodded.

 

"Footie?" Niall checked.

 

"I'm alternating with Nathan since we both have a lot of classes," Louis shared. "My next game isn't for a while..."

 

Niall nodded and twisted the lid off his milkshake, glugging it down before hungrily biting into his own sandwich.

 

"How's things?" Louis asked him back, a rare chance for him to speak amongst Niall's usual constant-chatter.

 

"Yeah, grand. Taking that Michelle girl out for a drink Friday night," he confided with an elbow-nudge.

 

"Ah, the blonde," Louis nodded, knowing all about her. "Good move."

 

Niall chewed on his lip thoughtfully, taking a breath for courage apparently.

 

"You know he wasn't really into that guy, don't you?" He said quickly, words rushed together.

 

Louis arched a brow, swallowing hard.

 

"Hm?" He forced his voice to sound semi-normal but his throat was tight.

 

"Lou, I know you saw." Niall sighed. "Everyone saw. He's being the biggest dick on earth and I've told him that but-"

 

"He's always a dick," Louis inserted. "At least I can get into class without getting groped now..."

 

"He likes you," Niall said anyway. "And if you can't see what he's doing then you're dumber than he is."

 

Louis chuckled breathily, no smile lighting his thin lips.

 

"Is this some stupid thing where he likes me but he's afraid or something so he goes and kisses some random guy to make me jealous?" Louis quipped, jokingly, but Niall was nodding widely.

 

Louis narrowed his gaze and pursed his lips.

 

"He didn't have to use his tongue to prove that point," he managed to say with a scratchy voice, pushing his food away to stand.

 

"Lou," Niall caught his wrist. "I know it's a shit thing to do but Harry doesn't-"

 

Louis looked down at his friend when he cut himself off with a huff.

 

"He doesn't chase usually," Niall explained gently. "With you, he's always been determined."

 

"Determined to make me look like a fucking idiot," Louis agreed. "Pretty sure everyone is aware that he's gone from wooing the Chess champion to fucking the swim-team captain," he mused.

 

Niall bit his lip again, face softening.

 

"Lou, I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

 

Louis shrugged.

 

"Why wouldn't I be? I have to go to Science now," he added, moving out of Niall's grip. "See you around."

 

//

 

Niall had slapped Harry around the head at least seventeen times to date.

 

He made it eighteen when he stomped into their dorm and threw his bag on the floor by Harry's bed.

 

"You're a fecking idiot!" He yelled for good measure.

 

Harry ignored him and cuddled his pillow a bit tighter, smushing his cheek into it.

 

"Probably."

 

"Why did you kiss Aidan?" Niall asked for the millionth time.

 

"Because."

 

"Why?" The blonde insisted.

 

Harry shrugged.

 

The next thing he knew, a knee was pressed into his back and an angry Irish-man was curled over him threateningly.

 

"You either sort this out with Louis or I'm asking for a transfer," he warned.

 

Harry snorted.

 

"Um, hello? We've been friends for eight years..."

 

"So fecking what," Niall pressed a bit harder so Harry choked breathlessly. "Not living with a dick no matter how long you've been around."

 

"Fine," Harry agreed reluctantly with a pout. "Can you get off me now, please?"

 

Niall shoved his head down and bounced off the bed.

 

//

 

He was in his _'Fuck_ _Me'_ crop, black jeans and gold boots with matching belt. His hair was extra-curly, his lips balmed and his eyes sorry.

 

He also had a sign. A big one. A big one with a broken heart on it and their names written in each half.

 

The first day, Louis rolled his eyes and walked into class without even stopping.

 

The second day, he arched a brow and shook his head with a sigh.

 

The third day, he paused, blinking as he looked at him and Harry though he'd made a breakthrough but then Louis got gently escorted into the classroom by Niall, the traitor.

 

Harry had to resort to underhand tactics. His crop-tops got smaller. His jeans got tighter with rips in them.

 

"Louis...Lou," He reached out, holding his board with his other.

 

Louis stopped.

 

"How's Nick?" He asked pointedly- the guy Harry had stupidly stuck his tongue down the throat of a few days ago.

 

Harry closed his eyes with a sigh.

 

"I don't know."

 

"Guess he didn't hold your interest for very long either," Louis commented, disappearing into his class once more.

 

Harry let his arm sag beside him, his board dangling from forlorn fingertips.

 

//

 

Harry decided the cropped tops weren't doing the job and instead rolled up to Louis' Science class in his basketball kit- short shorts and his vest with his name and number on.

 

He decided that standing outside the window on the college's playing field is a good idea, his sign held steadily to his chest despite the shaking occurring in his hands.

 

He'd never done anything like this before, he'd never had to. And well-

 

He'd never _cared_.

 

Nick had been egging him on, saying stupid things and he'd caved. Nick wasn't even gay, it was so ridiculous that Harry had let the other boy get to him but something deep inside knew it was also due to how Louis had made him feel.

 

He had been trying to deny it, to pretend that he could go back to who and what he was but it was heart-breakingly obvious that he couldn't. And he never would.

 

He belonged to Louis now, if only he could convince the smaller boy of that.

 

 

//

 

"It's been raining for the past half an hour..."

 

Zayn's voice was soft, nudging Louis towards an outcome he already knew was inevitable.

 

"His hair's wet," Zayn added. "It's dripping off his nose..."

 

Louis sighed.

 

"You should see his shorts, fuck Louis, the whole college wants to date him now..."

 

Louis snapped his gaze up, giving Zayn a horrified look. Zayn smirked.

 

They were in the changing rooms after footie practice where Harry had stood vigil silently with his board for the whole hour, even when it had started raining.

 

"He's got to be freezing, Lou," Zayn needled.

 

"Oh, alright!" Louis snapped, snatching the large fleece blanket out of Zany's lap and throwing on a parker jacket.

 

Zayn smiled at him when Louis turned at the door.

 

"Nick's nothing, yeah? Go get your man."

 

Louis nodded, pushing out into the cold and now dark night.

 

//

 

"For fuck's sake, Harry!" Louis tugged the blanket around his shivering form, noticing the way he automatically drifted closer.

 

Louis pried the board from his hands and tossed it in the trash can as he guided Harry inside. He absolutely did not glance at Harry's wet thighs. He didn't.

 

Harry's teeth chattered and Louis swore again, flapping his coat out to cover Harry's back and hair, curling him under a small arm.

 

"You're so fucking annoying!" Louis chided. "I hate you."

 

It took a hot shower, clean, dry clothes and three hot chocolates before Harry could speak again.

 

Louis got a fresh blanket and swaddled him with it.

 

"Want to come to my dorm for a bit?"

 

Harry peeked at him.

 

"Won't Liam mind?"

 

"Probably," Louis nodded.

 

"Won't-" He paused, swallowed, then cleared his throat. "Won't _you_ mind?"

 

Louis looked at him, eyes cool but intense.

 

"Probably," he said again, eyes falling to Harry's lips.

 

"Louis-"

 

"Come on," Louis said, laying his opened jacket over Harry's back on top of the blanket.

 

Harry gathered the blanket edges in his hands under his chin and gave Louis a soulful look as he stood up, ready to follow him to the dorm.

 

//

 

Liam was absent when they got there, Louis clearing his bed of clothes and tugging up his duvet for Harry to wrap into, replacing the jacket.

 

Harry sat on the edge of the bed, molly-coddled by the other boy.

 

Louis crawled to sit against the headboard as Harry stayed huddled on the edge, barely-visible quivers still jumping through his body.

 

"Still cold?" Louis checked.

 

Harry hummed, tightening the duvet.

 

Louis patted the space beside him, banking up his pillows and wriggling down a bit. Harry awkwardly wormed his way further up the bed, settling in a tight cocoon beside him. Louis reached up to stroke his nearly-dry hair. They'd blasted it with the dryer from the girls changing rooms and it was a bit fluffy now.

 

"Louis, I-"

 

"I know," Louis interrupted. "You _were_ a dick," he agreed.

 

"Nick isn't even gay." Harry explained. "He was saying all this shit about be me being girly and something in me snapped."

 

"That's all it was?" Louis checked. "Proving you're a man?"

 

Harry squirmed, sighing out so his breath hit Louis' neck. Louis let his arm curl around the bigger boy gently.

 

"Hesaidthingsbaoutyou," he mumbled quietly.

 

"What?" Louis mused.

 

"He said some things about you," Harry repeated slowly with a sigh. "I could have hit him but I figured since he was being such a dick about it, I may as well kill him with kindness like my mom always says."

 

"Kindness?" Louis snorted.

 

"I was biting his tongue off, not kissing him." Harry lamented.

 

Louis actually giggled, squeezing his arm.

 

"I saw the tongue consumption," Louis admitted. "Wasn't my favourite thing."

 

Harry lifted his head, nosing into Louis' cheek until Louis resumed petting his hair.

 

"I was denying it, too."

 

Louis frowned.

 

"Denying what?"

 

"That I like you," Harry mumbled.

 

Louis cupped his cheek, thumb pressed to the crease of his sometimes-dimple.

 

"Let me get this straight...overt show-off Harry Styles was afraid to tell Louis _the_ _loser_ Tomlinson that he likes him?"

 

"You're not a loser," Harry said right off, eyes wide with horror.

 

Louis licked his lips.

 

"I like you too, if that helps," he offered.

 

Harry's smile was huge, he wriggled to do something but his limbs were trapped, he began swearing and Louis couldn't help but chuckle.

 

"Kiss me, at least," Harry complained, getting one arm free to curl it around Louis' waist. "Please," he added sweetly.

 

Louis smirked into his lips.

 

"Dickhead," he murmured before he pressed their lips together.


End file.
